Go to the sky

The Jianghu shines on the horse, the sword shines on the frost, and the three foot green front destroys the setting sun worldly gratitude and resentment are wasted, and the road of the world is vicissitudes a little decadent young man with a little wish you once advised me to have a cup of coarse mountain wine, but now I taste it alone in the Jianghu and in the temples, these stories are probably: it's been a vain time do you know our heart? I'd like to show you my spirit love, hate, love and hatred, joys and sorrows, are really the barriers that the world will pass forever. The only way is: falling leaves and endless tears, how can you stay yesterday and today the young man is called he Zhiwei, but he can't tell how much the Jianghu is worth